the new fitness class instructors~the sales lady at Old Navy who had to bring me smaller jeans~the barista at Starbucks who wonders why I no longer get a grande white chocolate mocha~the waitress who seats me in a booth and know that I can fit~the guy at Pump it Up who asked me about my scar
There were teacher changes at my gym this week. Taking classes from new teachers brings out the "fat girl" inside of me. She is insecure, clumsy, forgetful, and unwilling to push through when a workout gets too difficult. During a great yoga class today I realized something. (I know, I know, during yoga my mind if suppose to be free of thought, but that wasn't happening today) When people don't know that I was once fat there is this part of me that feels like I need to explain it to them. For example...
"I know that I am barely binding my right angle pose, but only two years ago I couldn't even reach below me knee."
"Yep, I did trip over the step when I was suppose to pivot. Two years ago I weight 170 pounds more than I do today. Sometimes I just make mistakes."
"Could you please bring my a size 12? I know that a 12 is still on the larger side, but two years ago I use to wear a 30 so a 12 is pretty stinking fantastic!"
"No, I don't want whip cream. I have to get a skinny latte instead of what I really want because I can't drink 500 calories a day and continue to maintain my weight loss."
As I get further and further away from the old Kari I find that more and more people don't know me from my before pictures.
I am becoming more than a before picture.
My hope now is that as I become more comfortable in my own skin that this desire to explain and rationalize my choices and shortcomings to others will begin to fade. Until then.... did you know that I use to wear a (tight!) size 30 jean and am now very comfortable in a size 12?
What about you? Do you feel the need to explain your choices or to tell the waitress that you didn't always fit in the booth?
~Kari
